Listen in on John Rutter, one of the world’s great composers, discuss the choir as “a kind of emblem for what we need in this world, when so much of the world is at odds with itself….”
The women of the choir
were flirting as they sang,
eyes rolling, tilting heads,
the lilting voices rang
the changes in their moods
enticing males who heard
the notes and interludes,
but knew it was absurd:
to trust a single word….
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Dec. 22, 2014
Editor’s Note: Hmmm. I’ve often wondered why Steve sings in three choirs. Maybe Steve and the rest of the basses, tenors, and baritones come to rehearsals as Tritons, the male equivalents of Sirens?
Triton Fountain, Rome
The choir’s BASS was to be the Foundation,
And his low “C” was quite the sensation,
But so flat was he,
His “C” was a “B,”
So elation became consternation.
The ALTO could sing like a bird.
And her beauty the males all allured,
But her tempo was slow,
And her voice was so low,
She never could really be heard.
The TENOR was a prima donna;
His tux had bright diamonds upon a
Stud here and there,
But when we’d despair,
His voice would shake all of La Scala!
Our conductor said “I am the BOSS!
Without me you all would be lost.
So watch me explore
This musical score:
The fast notes will make your eyes cross!”
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Nov. 14, 2014
On the piano bench talent just landed
Bragging “A band I replaced, single-handed!”
He plays for our choir,
But he is a liar:
I watched, and he plays DOUBLE-handed!
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, Nov. 15, 2014
Ever dream of being lost? Or confused? Distraught? Inconsequential and dispensable? Join the club.
Scene 1
It’s my first Sunday back from a sabbatical. I am returning to the pulpit of the large church with the great music program. I love this church and am glad to be home.
Scene 2
It’s Sunday morning just before worship. I’m running VERY late. My robe is in the office up several flights of stairs but I can’t remember exactly where. It’s just “up”. The robed Choir – the best in the city – is coming down the stairs while I’m trying to go up the stairs to find my robe in the lost office. No one in the Choir acknowledges my presence. They are in a rush down to the Chapel.
Scene 3
I walk into the Chancel. The Chapel is fairly full. Attendance is good. I take my normal seat as their Pastor, prepare myself for the Call to Worship that will follow the Choir’s Choral Introit. Three Choir members dressed as animals crawl out onto the front of the Chancel and start to sing. I realize then that there is no Order of Worship. Instead there is a music program.
(The music program has always been a thing of controversy. A great blessing with the highest standards and exquisite classical musical taste, but it is also criticized for drawing attention to itself and demanding disproportionate financial resources from the church budget. I am a big supporter of the music program, but have also worked to maintain its rightful place in worship and within the broader life of the church.)
Scene 4
I am confused and annoyed that this appears to be a music program stuck into the hour of Morning Worship. This is NOT worship. The congregation and I have been blind-sided. It is not what anyone in the congregation expected. It is performance, not worship.
Two members of the congregation who love music but who care more about the integrity of worship get up and head for the doors.
More people – five or six at a time – are getting up and leaving. Disgust is emptying the place.
Scene 5
I am no longer in the Chancel. I am in the rear balcony pleading with those who are leaving.
“This is not worship! This is something else. I’m sorry. This has to stop!” But the few people who remain are heading for the exits.
Scene 6
The Director of Music is deeply distressed. He’s gone too far, and he knows it. Finally…he knows it. So do some of the members of the Choir. What to do? Call them together quickly right now…but newer members of the Choir whose faces and names I don’t recognize are heading down the stairs for the doors. They don’t like conflict and, I suppose, feel hurt and unappreciated, like their Director.
Scene 7
I realize that I had returned from sabbatical without giving the church office an Order for Worship in time to meet the deadline for printing. I am disappointed with myself and upset with the Director of Music. I’m feeling lost. Alone. Invisible. Clearly dispensable. My first day back from sabbatical there has been no welcome, no acknowledgement. I have lost all of the control that, over the years, has kept the Music Program, its Director, and its critics from killing each other in ecclesiastical warfare, and, from the looks of it, everyone and everything I have worked for is…lost.
surrounded by sounds
of other breathing bodies
strong voices lead
others join
…
the director
cajoles pleads whips
with eyes hands baton
…
a legion of devils
become angels
– Steve Shoemaker, Urbana, IL, December 22, 2012
Question from Views from the Edge:
Should there be 26, 27, or 28 tollings of the bell and candles lit after the tragedy of Newtown? Were Adam and Nancy members of the Choir?
“The only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.” – NRA Gospel.
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” – Jesus from the cross.
Views from the Edge 